


Dark and Damp

by MaybeWren



Series: Identical Grins [30]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Piglin Hybrid Wilbur Soot, Ram Hybrid Jschlatt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:13:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28388337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaybeWren/pseuds/MaybeWren
Summary: Schlatt alludes to his plan.
Relationships: Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot
Series: Identical Grins [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2027068
Comments: 12
Kudos: 94





	Dark and Damp

The cell is dark and damp. Wilbur curls into his coat, the only thing he has. Even the secret pockets are empty. He’s yet to see anyone, left alone in the cell to rot. Wilbur doesn’t know how long it’s been. It could be an hour, it could be a month. He thinks it’s somewhere in the middle. Wilbur’s well acquainted with the walls and ceiling of this cell. It was likely built after Wilbur was exiled, none of the original L’manburgians having the personality to do such a thing.

The door to Wilbur’s cell opens and he watches Schlatt enter. His suit is pristine and perfectly pressed. All of the scars from Techno’s fireworks are under the suit and unseen. Just like the ones Wilbur has from the lava Schlatt pushed him into. Just like the scars from the explosions. He doesn’t know if Schlatt even remembers them.

“Hello loverboy,” Schlatt says and the door shuts.

“Schlatt,” Wilbur answers, voice practically dead.

“How’s Pogtopia?” Schlatt asks.

Wilbur glares at him. “Like hell I’m telling you.”

Schlatt chuckles. “Oh, Wilbur. That doesn’t matter. You want to know why?”   
  


Wilbur doesn’t answer. He’s not sure if he wants to know. Most of what Schlatt says is laced with ill intent. It has been for as long as he can remember.

Schlatt smirks. “I have something special planned for you. Wouldn’t November sixteenth be poetic? A month after you tried to revolt at the festival.”

Wilbur looks away. It’s got a familiar manic spark, one that he’s well aquatinted with. He’s suffered to that spark countless times. Several deaths are ingrained into his mind, countless scars accompanying them. He watches Schlatt leave and hears the lock click behind him. Wilbur’s once again alone in a cold room.

**Author's Note:**

> Yay. I wrote this, well, I don't know. I have a shit memory, but it was a while ago. Also, I know Schlatt called Wilbur loverboy. It's a platonic nickname. Stop.
> 
> [Main Tumblr](https://maybewren.tumblr.com/)  
> [Photography Tumblr](https://maybetherephotos.tumblr.com/)  
> [Poetry Tumblr](https://maybetherewriting.tumblr.com/)


End file.
